Mobius is pretending not to check up on Loki when he is totally, in fact, checking up on the least stable of the Lokis. Loki wants to show Mobius his cat.
(Not a euphemism, promise.)
⚠None.
The tennis ball bounced off the gym wall and sped back at Loki. He lunged to the right and caught it with the racket, sending it back towards the wall even harder. The ball hit the Derleth campus logo, paint chipped and cracked over the years, and flew back at him. This time he caught it with a backhand. He’d been at it for more than an hour and hadn’t broken a sweat.
The week in Westworld had been nothing short of traumatic for Loki. Since he was in Derleth he’d been very cautious about his life. With one memorable exception in the Green, Loki hadn’t died in all of his time in Derleth’s pocket universe. And his feelings towards death were very particular. Very sensitive. Many of the other residents treated their deaths as something to shrug about. After all, with the resets did it really matter? But Loki knew what it felt like to die in his own world. And he knew how painful it was to carry that memory into every new week. So, he’d always been very cautious.
Then Westworld happened.
Loki died at least three times during that week. It might have been four, but his memory was a little cloudy. Probably because of the host programming. Which, upon retrospection, might have been worse than the deaths themselves. Because, once again, Loki wasn’t himself. Not truly. And that was the one thing Loki wished he had better control of in Derleth. The ability to be himself. Not Vampire Loki. Not the Space King. Not the Supreme Lokian Leader. Just Loki.
Loki who rarely bothered looking like Loki anymore. Just Loki in jeans, tennis shoes, and a Derleth Athletics tee. Post-Statesman Derleth Loki.
He hit the tennis ball again. And again. And again.
But it wasn’t just Westworld that left him feeling out of sorts. It was his awkward relationship with Sharon, which felt like an uneasy attraction based on a shared loss. It was the growing rift between him and Sylvie. It was the new —regrettable? he hadn’t decide—turn that had happened between him and Natasha. And then, of course, last but certainly not least, there was Mobius’s epic return.
Loki didn’t even know where to begin when it came to dealing with any one of these things. He felt crowded. Confused. Lonely despite not really being alone. And, most of all, conflicted. He didn’t even know if he was Loki anymore. At least not the Loki he’d always thought himself to be.
He hit the tennis ball again. It bounced and echoed off the floor. And while it was a good physical distraction it did very little to ease his mental agony which, in and of itself, was like a dozen tennis balls bouncing against the inside of his brain.
The problem was Mobius always looked like Mobius. Three variants so far and you would think one of them might have a different hairstyle or suit. Instead, based on outward appearances alone, they were essentially impossible to tell apart. Mobius was so essentially himself and comfortable in his own skin.
It meant he had no idea what Loki was going through. At least not yet.
He’d spent the first day getting acclimated to the campus and to the previous Mobius’s work on timelines. There were a few base assumptions in the former Mobius’s work that he questioned, but then that was the advantage of a fresh pair of eyes, wasn’t it? He was a bit like a scientist, seeing if he could capture the same results as the first set of published experiments.
But day two he started to get antsy. The Lokis were quiet. That was never a good sign.
So under the cover of being the new kid in town, Mobius started to search the campus. He knew vaguely of a rooftop hang out, but began his search of the buildings one by one.
The gym was the third place he looked.
In retrospect it was nice that all four Lokis appeared physically different. Otherwise he wasn’t sure he would have known what Loki he was looking at just then. A Loki in jeans? Didn’t seem right. Even his own variant, the one he had promised never to compare to this Loki, had tailored his TVA uniform within an inch of his life to show off that Asgardian figure. This was not that.
“Wow. Nice gym,” Mobius said. His loafers clipped against the gym floor as he walked in the direction of Loki, while still giving him space for his game. “You come here often?”
He tried to file away facts about this variant. Who was he? Because if he was being honest with himself, Sacred Timeline Loki didn’t mean anything to him. That Loki was dead. This one was not.
Loki didn’t react when Mobius entered the gym. Nor did he show any sign of recognition when he spoke. It wasn’t until Mobius was partially in his peripheral vision that Loki saw him. He was startled. He missed the tennis ball by more than a foot and it rolled across the floor of the basketball court and didn’t stop until it was somewhere near the centerline. Then Loki turned. He blinked a few times. Then he reached up to his ears and removed the ear plugs that he’d hoped would distract him from the vexing ‘Danger Zone’ which played without warning.
Then there was that other song too, but Loki had quickly figured out the catalyst for that one. He was fairly certain he could avoid a resurgence of that particular theme song.
Fairly certain.
He slipped the ear plugs into his pocket.
“Mobius. This is a surprise. Are you lost? The cafeteria is on the other side of the Green. And all of the science people keep to Armitage for the most part.” Hardly anyone ever visited the gym. Even Loki wasn’t a frequent user of its facilities. But he had a knack for latching onto places that other people ignored. Since his arrival in Derleth he’d never had a space to himself. No room of his own. And he wasn’t exactly made to feel welcome in the Loki Loft anymore. So he sought out the empty places.
Today it was the gym. Tomorrow was anyone’s guess.
He crossed the length of the gym floor to pick up the tennis ball. Then he slowly made his way back to Mobius. “Something I can do for you?”
That’s right. Keep it cool. Keep it professional. No need to show any emotional investment. Just pretend like there’s nothing wrong and eventually everyone—maybe even Loki himself—would believe it.
“Are you wearing…” Mobius paused, taking a second to make the connection from the one network post he saw from any of the Lokis, to the earbuds Loki pulled out. “Oh. For the music. Right. How exactly does that work again? Is that like a magic spell someone put on you or something else?”
Mobius put his hands on his hips, opening up his blazer slightly. It read a bit like confused dad pose. He needed something to do with his hands, something to feel like he had some semblance of control over the situation. He wanted to be someone who could handle this, someone who could be depended upon.
“It’s kind of a funny prank if you think about it,” he mumbled. Likely less funny for Loki, but also harmless. Maybe it would be better if Loki didn’t hear that particular remark. So he added something else to debate about: “Is this your look now? T-shirt and jeans guy?”
There was nothing wrong with the look, per say. Mobius just found himself staring. Clearly it was completely about the midgardian attire. There was absolutely no comparing between this and The Variant’s TVA uniform that had mirrored his own.
“It’s a good look,” he said, deciding to hedge. Lokis could be sensitive, this one in particular. “It’s very friendly. Approachable. I bet the kids like it.”
“I don’t know. Honestly, I stopped trying to figure out how Derleth does anything a long time ago. It doesn’t really matter. Derleth casts its spells or makes its changes and the only thing any of us can do is wait it out. Trying to prevent it only makes it worse.”
Like when a group of them thought it was a smart idea to miniaturize an IKEA and bring it back to Derleth. Every major intentional action came with a swift reaction on Derleth’s part. And if Loki had to suffer seven days of synthesizer music in order to prevent the invisible controllers of this place from making things worse for him—or for any of them—then so be it.
At the mention of it being a funny prank, Loki merely raised a brow. But his expression was clear. He didn’t find anything funny about this week. Just as there wasn’t anything funny about the week before or the week before that. It was torture. But Mobius would figure that out in time. There was no use in Loki wasting his breath. Let him have his useless optimism for as long as he could.
“Are you mocking me?” Loki tossed the tennis racquet and ball into a bin of sports items at the end of the court. When he turned to make his way back to Mobius, his appearance changed. T-shirt and jeans replaced with the green and gold armor he wore when he attacked New York. “Is this more to your taste?”
A green glow washed over him, outfit replaced with the attire he wore on the Statesman. The clothing he woke up in at the start of every week, blood and all. “Or this?”
He stopped within two feet of Mobius. “Oh, wait. I know. I saw this one in a memory once. Hold on.”
Loki waved his hand and within seconds he wore that familiar brown slacks, shirt, and tie that Mobius should have been familiar with. He even topped it off with the variant jacket. He popped the collar and did a little spin. The motions were playful, but the expression wasn’t. He was annoyed. “Does that do it for you? Is that Loki enough for you?”
Yes, Loki was sensitive. And yes, Mobius also felt like an asshole. The two feelings weren’t mutually exclusive. So he froze in place, hands still on hips, face trying hard not to twist in discomfort.
“Your opinion is the one that matters, not mine,” Mobius said. He found he was able to move again, holding his hands up in a brief gesture that might have been a half hearted surrender. His hands dropped and he found he didn’t know what to do with them again.
The TVA agent frowned thoughtfully.
“Is that the problem? Haven’t been feeling like yourself lately? Last week with people being secret cowboy robots, the Space King that possessed you, this week with the music…?” Mobius thought he might be onto something, but then that was always the danger, wasn’t it? Some people didn’t like their problems laid out for them like that. And Mobius might have been an expert on Lokis due to his last case, but that did not make him a great therapist of Lokis.
“None of that is your fault,” Mobius reminded him. “You know that, right?”
Mobius peeked into the bin of sports equipment. Then back at Loki.
“I meant that, about your opinion. I know we’re not there yet, but friends tease each other sometimes. You should try it. In a nice way. You know, when you reach that point of comfort with someone else…”
Mobius frowned again.
Did Loki have any friends here?
Sacred Timeline Loki didn’t seem like the kind of person who had those.
Shit.
A green glow spread over Loki from head to toe, removing the TVA attire and replacing it with the Derleth shirt and jeans he had on when Mobius entered the gym. Not because it was the best outfit to express who he was, but because Mobius was right. Loki was tired of being all of these other Lokis. He didn’t feel like himself. But, also, he wasn’t entirely sure who he was to begin with. He’d just started to figure that out after his father’s death. He thought he was the closest to being who he was meant to be when he gave up his life for Thor. But here? In Derleth? Loki didn’t know anymore.
But he did know it wasn’t fair to take out his anger on Mobius. None of this had anything to do with Mobius.
But Mobius was wrong about one thing. His opinion did matter. At least, it did to Loki.
“Look, I know we got off to a rocky start.” Loki crossed his arms over his chest. “And I’m sorry that I was less than sympathetic to your arrival last week. That wasn’t my most endearing moment by any means. But I’ve been here a long time. I’ve seen dozens of people come and go. This is my third round of introducing myself to you. And, quite frankly, I’m exhausted.”
Loki looked down at the floor, lips pursed. “But you’re right. I am tired of not getting the opportunity to be myself. And I know for most people here this is just a pit stop. A waystation until they get to go home. But that’s not me. I don’t get to go home because I don’t exist in my home anymore. Which makes this place as much a blessing as it is a torture. I hoped I would be in Valhalla with my family. But what do I get instead?”
Loki waved a hand to gesture to everything around them. “An old college campus and people who fall in and out of my life. People who return and don’t remember me. That’s worse than death in many ways. Being forgotten.”
Loki reached out and brushed off a piece of fluff from Mobius’s shoulder. “I’d love nothing more than to tease you, but you said it yourself. We’re not there yet. And chances are you won’t be here long enough for us to be … friends.”
Mobius conceded with an affable shrug. He didn’t want to argue.
“This really isn’t that rocky of a start,” he said. Now, his Loki… he might have continued, but he knew The Cowboy didn’t want to hear about it. Mobius had promised he wouldn’t compare the two.
“See? We’re talking. Spending time together, getting to know one another… You haven’t even tried to stab me. I’d say this is off to a real promising start.” Mobius patted Loki’s shoulder, before it planted itself there. He stared a little, as if he were reading something on Loki’s face, as if he could see through the demi-god.
“Maybe you will end up in Vahalla after this. But you’re still breathing for now. Still have a heartbeat. I wouldn’t be in a rush. Eternity is a long time. Besides, you’re clever, you’re a trickster. I would have thought you’d have this place figured out by now. How long did you say it’d been? Years? Decades?”
Mobius dropped his hand from Loki’s shoulder and took a look around the gym as if some clue or insight would come to him in their blossoming investigation.
“Between you, Natasha Romanoff, Sharon, Dr. Strange, not to mention three other Lokis… I mean, you guys don’t even need me around.”
He assumed there were other capable people on campus. Maybe. He’d seen some posting on the network, attempting to get a feel for who was who. Not that a few people couldn’t speed up that process for him considerably but then, he’d been there twice before. Mobius had a sense that he needed to be mindful of that.
The hand on Loki’s shoulder gave him pause. He looked at it, only half hearing what Mobius said. When the hand dropped away he felt an uncomfortable cold spot where it had once been and he unconsciously swallowed back the bit of saliva that built up in the back of his mouth. Loki hadn’t quite reconciled the arrival of this Mobius with his feelings for the last. Or even with his feelings for the first. Because there had been something there as well. Something young and fresh and not fully developed, but Loki believed that if he’d stayed around long enough there could have been … something.
Now there was a new Mobius. A Mobius who didn’t seem all that different. Perhaps a bit more standoffish. More formal. More professional. But not different. Not like Space King vs. Professor Loki. Mobius, in all of his incarnations, felt very similar. It made Loki wonder if there only was one Mobius in the multiverse.
“For the record I thought about stabbing you last week. On multiple occasions, I might add.” Loki tucked his hair behind his ears. Then he canted his hip to the side and stood more casually. Or at least less tensely. “And most of those people you mentioned don’t exactly work well together. So, we might need you more than you realize.”
At least, the Lokis didn’t work well together. Within five minutes of being in the same room together they’d be arguing. Strange was also a bit of a loner when it came to ‘work’. His ego was on par with the Lokis in that sense. He didn’t think he needed help. And Natasha was good at assembling the masses, but science and magic weren’t her forte. Same with Sharon.
“There’s a magical team who’s tried a few experiments. And a science team too. They’ve made some progress, but I think most people have kind of accepted that we’re at the mercy of Derleth’s creators.” Loki shrugged. “I’ve been mostly bipartisan on the matter. But it would be nice to stay in one place for longer than a week.”
Loki dropped his arms to his sides and hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans. “I know it probably doesn’t mean anything because it was technically someone else. But I’ve missed you. And having you here—a version of you that doesn’t remember being here—is difficult. For me. I can’t speak for anyone else. But it’s not easy doing this again.”
Mobius nodded and took all the information in. He tried to piece together the issue between the Lokis, but from his limited standpoint, it looked more like siblings who couldn’t quite get along than something more serious.
“What about Julia and Rick?” Mobius asked. “Are they team science or magic? I heard them mentioned a few times last week.”
The impression he got was not particularly good. If there was anyone to worry about, his money was on the pair of them. But then, again, no one really said anything directly about them. It was all trying to put things into their proper context.
It was interesting to see their posts on the network, see how others responded to them. People seemed to trust Julia okay based on their replies. Rick got some more colorful responses.
Tucked away and not responded to was the comment about Loki wanting to stab him. As far as Mobius could tell it was all talk. Lokis could be like that sometimes. Yet others, they were really big on the stabbing. It was a difficult needle to thread. Ignore it, and Loki might act out. Call it out and, well, Loki might act out.
They were doing good, so far. Mobius wanted to encourage a much more positive relationship.
Which eventually meant confronting some of what Loki said about the previous Mobiuses. Mobi-i? He still didn’t know.
He just cleared his throat, kept up the polite but professional demeanor. At least until they got to know one another a little better. Clean slate, right?
Loki offered Mobius an opening and he ignored it. That was fine. Loki could keep the conversation platonic. He could leave everything surface level. Perhaps that was for the best anyway. For both of them.
“Rick is pure science. He’s something of a maniac. He doesn’t care about anyone else. Honestly, I don’t think he cares about anything. He’s just interested in outdoing himself. In the discovery. Maybe in showing off. But he’s a jerk 99% of the time. Is he good at what he does? Yes. But he can’t be trusted to think of the well-being of everyone else. I don’t trust him to do that, at least.” And that was where Loki had changed the most. He, too, used to be in the Rick category of people. He didn’t care about other people. It was all ego and narcissism. But living among the people in Derleth had swayed his feelings of community.
He may not have figured out his long term place in Derleth, but he knew he wanted to have one.
Loki scratched the side of his face as he thought about Julia. That was a trickier conversation.
“Julia is a bit of both. Her magical abilities are not to be underestimated. But she’s smart too. She has a scientific background. I think her intentions are in the right place. I want to believe that they are. But Julia is missing part of her soul.” Loki didn’t think it was out of line to tell Mobius this. He was fairly certain it was common knowledge nowadays. He made his way over to the bleachers and sat down on the second to lowest row. “She’s not fully capable of feeling all of her emotions and that sometimes clouds her judgment. She’s fairly short on empathy, but she knows that. And I think, at least I hope, she’s trying to be aware of that when it comes to working on projects that affect everyone else. Unlike Rick she has friends here. I think they’d stop her from going too far.”
Loki stretched his legs out in front of him and tapped the toes of his tennis shoes together. “There’s a lot of power in this place. A lot of intelligence. Not a lot of cohesion. Better than some other Derleths but there’s a stark divide between the people who are trying to build a permanent life for themselves here and the people who are just waiting to go home. The last Mobius was hel-bent on finding a stable timeline where we could all coexist equally. While I think his intentions were good, I don’t think his line of thinking was correct. I have always thought that the Void is the closest we’ve ever gotten to a stable control environment. This is where I think we should be focusing our efforts. Not on fitting ourselves into someone else’s universe, but in expanding this one.”
Loki shrugged. “But what do I know?”
Mobius sat down on the bleachers next to Loki. They weren’t shoulder to shoulder but had ended up physically closer than he intended in trying to thread the friendly vs personal space needle. It was fine. He’d just go with it. He didn’t want to scoot back and cause offense.
“Sounds like you know quite a bit,” Mobius said.
Mobius held Loki’s gaze to let that last sentence sink in a bit.
“So there are other Derleths, and they’re worse off than this one?” Mobius asked. “A lot of capable people here, but they’re not always playing on the same team. And some good ideas about where to go from here, but not full agreement on the best path forward. Even though, judging by the way things are now, previous attempts haven’t exactly worked yet.”
Did that summary just about cover it?
Mobius nodded his head. It was a lot to work out.
He nudged Loki’s foot with his own. Just to make sure he kept the other man’s attention. Also, he liked those sneakers, even though he wasn’t sure he could have ever imagined most Lokis ever wearing one before.
“You’re keeping it together pretty well, all things considered,” Mobius said.
Loki nodded. “That’s the general idea of the place. Not that this Derleth is better than the others, but it does seem to be more stable. The only problem with our Derleth is that it’s isolated in the Void. Like it’s been removed from the universe it’s usually in. I think that this campus was taken from its own version of Dunwich and isolated for this experiment. Somewhere out there is a village that’s missing its campus. Maybe that’s the universe we ought to be looking for.”
He paused. “Unless we can figure out how to expand this pocket universe on our own. Julia was able to do that with the Green during one of the weeks. It wasn’t always a forest. She made it bigger. I don’t know if we could do that with the buildings or the Void space, but clearly we’re not entirely contained. Otherwise the forest never would have been able to grow to more than twice its original size.”
It had been a long time since Loki felt like he could share his theories and opinions and actually be heard. Whenever he tried to explain his thoughts on the network he was mocked or ridiculed. People didn’t take him seriously because of his past. Because he had the tendency to jest or play mental games. But he had a lot of ideas. And he didn’t think they were half bad.
A small smile crept on his lips when Mobius nudged his toe. Then he shook his head. “I’m not though. This is an illusion. All of it is. I’m coming apart at the seams. I’m a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode. Everyone knows it too. They’re just afraid to do anything about it.”
He frowned thoughtfully. It sounded like a pretty clear cry for help. There was always just a chance that it was manipulation, that this Loki really would stab him. After all, this was the fastest he ever seemed to get on with a Loki without problems. The robot rebellion at the end of last week didn’t count. Besides, even with programming, Loki had avoided killing him.
“Well…”
Mobius sat with that thought. There was a lot to go over, and Loki, as usual, had valuable insights. Getting him to believe in himself? Getting him to holster the drama for a bit? Work nicely with his other Lokis, for example? That was the hard part.
Mobius knew he could work with Lokis.
Generally a pain in the ass, but good friends to have.
From there, they could branch out.
“How well do you get on with Natasha Romanoff?” Mobius asked. “And Sharon Carter?” Those seemed to be natural candidates for other leaders around Derleth. Perhaps some of the other magic users, but Mobius wasn’t too entirely sure about them yet. “For being super secret spy types, they seem like they could probably be pretty straight talkers.”
Maybe. They could keep Loki in line, at least. Mobius could respect that. It wasn’t a particularly easy task.
It was a good thing they were in the gym and not the cafeteria when Mobius asked his question. If Loki had been in the middle of a drink or biting into a sandwich, he would have choked. How was it that every single Mobius seemed to pinpoint on the exact problem that Loki had without even realizing it? Or maybe Mobius was shrewder than Loki gave him credit for. Maybe he did know and this was a test to prove a point.
No. He couldn’t know. Natasha and Sharon were straight talkers, yes, but they could keep secrets.
They could keep secrets better than Loki.
Loki cleared his throat with a cough.
“We’re friends.” That felt like a weird thing to admit. And it was true, but it was also leaving out a large piece of the puzzle. But Loki wasn’t going to talk about that with Mobius unless he had to. And right now they weren’t close enough to go there. Perhaps they never would be.
That thought hurt a little. Because Loki wanted to be. He wanted to be close. But he didn’t want to go through that loss a third time.
“We get along. On our own. Not as a group. Although I don’t believe there’s any ill will between the two of them. I’m friends with them both, but we’re not all friends together. If that makes sense.” He was over-complicating what should have been a simple answer to a simple question. “What I mean to say is … I’m probably not going to do anything crazy. I’m trying to start new here. There have been a dozen-or-so hiccups, but I’m improving. I think. Note this conversation. I haven’t threatened anyone yet. Haven’t brought up the daggers. Haven’t grumbled about my glorious purpose. But I find myself in a constant state of emotional over-stimulation. And sometimes I behave irrationally.”
Loki tugged on his earlobe in thought. “I don’t want to weigh them down with my nonsense. They have their own things going on.”
He grew pensive for a moment. Then, without warning, he shook it off and replaced his solemn expression with a bright-eyed Loki smile. Typical of any Loki trying to avoid going down the dark rabbit hole.
“But enough about me!” He poked Mobius in the shoulder. “Tell me about you.”
Mobius made a face. It wasn’t that he really minded talking about himself. (Okay, maybe a little. There were some sensitive and recently revealed sore spots there, like how he wasn’t actually created by three wise and ancient Time Keepers to watch over a sacred timeline.) It was more like he recognized it for the subject change that it was.
“Who, me? I’m just settling in. You asking so we can compare notes with the other Mes, or do I really come across as that different?”
It was a gentle poke. Mobius already had his suspicions about Loki’s relationship with his variants. It wasn’t something he wanted to take advantage of, but he knew eventually, they were going to have to confront it.
Only thing to do with a ticking time bomb was to disarm it, right? Gently. Carefully. Otherwise it was more likely than not to go off on him.
So he gave Loki an out.
“I’m peckish. Are you feeling peckish? I could go for a snack. Maybe sunflower seeds. The kind with the shells on. It’s not as satisfying without them.”
There. Loki didn’t have to answer now if he wasn’t ready yet. They could go to Dexter and see what was available. Mobius didn’t stand or gesture to move. It was merely a lifeline. For the Variant of his friend. They certainly looked a lot alike, even if they weren’t the same person.
“Unless this place doesn’t have them. Industrial kitchen circa late twentieth century? The supplies could go either way. Although it’s handy that we ended up here with a kitchen, right?”
If Loki wanted. Mobius would even feel the silence for him. Keep him from having to talk if he didn’t feel like it. Mobius was pretty sure he could keep this up a good couple of minutes.
“How can I know if you’re different if I don’t ask about you? Or do you expect me to curl my fingers around your mind and pull out all of the answers?” Loki paused. “Which I’m not going to do by the way. Just in case you were worried about that.”
Loki leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and hanging his forearms between his legs. Maybe he shouldn’t have been having this conversation in the first place. He was already treading in deep water by being friendly. He had to remind himself that this was a different Mobius. He belonged to a different Loki. To Sylvie. To a timeline where Loki was just a point in one particular scheme to move the universe in a singular direction.
This wasn’t his friend or his lover. This was a stranger.
Who just invited him to have a snack together.
Loki’s forehead furrowed, eyebrows tucked neatly towards the center. He was searching Mobius’s face for a sign that this offer meant something. Or that it came with certain strings. Was this a trick? Or was Mobius just being friendly? And which did Loki prefer?
To be honest, he didn’t know.
“It’s handy that we ended up with people who know how to cook. I honestly thought we were doomed when Wanda left, but thankfully Captains America and Pike are secret culinary specialists.” Loki grinned. “Who would have thought it? Maybe I even have a variant with a Michelin star label.”
Loki doubted it, but it was a funny image to imagine himself in the white coat and tall hat.
“Sure,” he said after a thoughtful pause. “Sunflower seeds sound exactly like the kind of nonsensical foodstuff this place would have. But we have to make a pitstop first and feed Mischief. That’s my baby. Er, my cat. Well, kitten. I rescued him from the zombie world. It won’t take long.”
Loki gave Mobius a hopeful glance. “If you don’t mind, that is.”
“I wasn’t,” Mobius said. Internally, the warning signs for trusting a Loki so quickly went off angrily in his mind’s eye. He ignored the sense that he should be more cautious. He’d been on a manhunt throughout time for Sylvie. His own variant had taken some time to adjust.
This? By Loki standards, this was a flawless start to their friendship. He was surprised they didn’t have best friend tattoos by now. This was a Loki who’d shown consideration and vulnerability. Mobius wasn’t worried about him messing with his mind. He wasn’t worried about Sylvie messing with his mind and that had always been kind of her thing.
“You have a cat,” Mobius repeated.
Loki did seem like more of a cat person if he were being honest. (This Loki, at least. He was certain there were other variants that might have been dog people.)
His lips curled in a mirthful, quiet smile which was why he knew better than to say anything at that moment. Anything that came out of his mouth might come off as teasing rather than supportive. He was very supportive of this choice. It was nice.
Loki was … nice?
“Look, my life isn’t that special. I was a variant abducted by the TVA, brainwashed to think I’d been there the whole time, and then in the course of investigating Sylvie, met another you and we uncovered an entire conspiracy at the end of time, which--”
Mobius almost said you. They looked so much alike.
“--they took care of and I’m sure that it’ll be fine now.”
It wouldn’t, but Mobius knew better than to worry about it while he was stuck here.
Loki wasn’t surprised by how well they were getting along because Loki could tell that he was doing his best to keep things smooth between them. Because Loki was trying hard to be a friendly Loki. Maybe he was trying too hard. But he had been here twice before already. And he’d enjoyed the company of both of the previous versions of Mobius. He had no reason to believe that this Mobius would be any different than the other two when it came to his base personality. And he didn’t want to frighten him away like he had Sylvie. He wanted desperately for Mobius to be his friend.
He just wasn’t sure how he wanted to navigate that friendship. Likewise, he wasn’t certain how to protect himself from too much friendship. Which was why his demeanor was equal parts open and authentic and stiff and standoffish.
It wasn’t a wonder that people in Derleth couldn’t make up their minds about him. Loki was a roller coaster of emotions.
“I have a photo.” Loki slipped his phone out of his pocket and began flipping through the photo gallery. He actually had quite a few photos in there. Most of which he kept out of Mobius’s view until he came upon the one he was looking for. A small ginger kitten playing in the grass near the Green. Was it weird to share that with Mobius? Probably not as weird as making him jump out of a train onto a galloping steed.
Loki held the screen up so Mobius could see the photo. “He’s a little bigger now. He doesn’t seem to be affected by the resets in the same way that the rest of us are.”
Then Mobius actually told him about himself and cue a look of surprise on Loki’s face. For some reason he didn’t think he’d get that. But he listened with an intent and shockingly nonjudgmental expression.
“By ‘took care of’ I’m going to assume you mean royally blundered the entire thing and now the fate of the universe is in the hands of a bunch of self-loathing variants.” Loki offered a halfhearted grin. “Maybe I am glad I’m dead.”
He returned his phone to his pocket. “You’re different from a lot of the other people here. People disappear and return, but they’re not always the same. They have a different history or they come from a different timeline. Sometimes they’re from a completely different universe. Margo, for example, has been here three, maybe four, times and she’s never been quite the same. Her story has always been a little different. The same with Steve Rogers. This is the third time he’s arrived. Each time from a different point in the timeline. This is Rick’s second time around. I think he’s jumped forward in his timeline, and he still has his memories of Derleth. But you? You have always come from what appears to be the exact same moment. From the exact same world. You just never remember having been here before.”
Mobius chewed over that bit of information thoughtfully. How many of his variants were treated like he was? The water ring stain on the end table in Ravonna’s office— the one he did not remember making but was told he did— how many Mobiuses (Mobi-i?) were there?
“Weird,” was all he said, brushing it off. Thinking too hard about that? That way lead to madness. They were free now, weren’t they? Variants could be unpredictable. That there would be differences made sense. But Mobius being just about the same each time?
It was weird.
“I wouldn’t sell your variants short, though. Blunder seems like a strong word. More like improvising. I’m sure they did their best.”
From his point of view, it had worked.
Now it was just a tricky matter of the fallout.
And then to make one final point, Mobius leaned in, ear just in front of Loki’s mouth.
“I don’t know, you’re breathing. Seems like the blood is pumping okay in that ticker of yours. Weirdest dead guy I’ve ever seen.”
He pulled back.
“I know you get sensitive about this kind of thing: I’m the sacred timeline Loki. Me. I’m the original one. But you being here does technically make you a variant. Just saying. From here on out, you get to make your own path.”
Loki’s heart almost stopped when Mobius leaned in close. He did a relatively decent job of hiding the concern on his face. But his eyes did flash panic. Thankfully, however, it was just Mobius’s ear leaning towards him. So, it probably wasn’t noticed. Not as well noticed as Loki’s hesitant breath against the side of his face, at least.
And then he thought a quiet prayer to any other gods in the universe who would listen that they weren’t suddenly interrupted by a blaring chorus of “Take My Breath Away.” Which, funnily enough, was what Loki caught himself doing. Holding his breath until Mobius leaned back.
Silence.
Thank you.
Loki shrugged. “It’s not being sensitive about being the Loki or the ‘Sacred Loki’ so much as it is feeling like less than the variant. The one you and Sylvie know. It’s the fear of comparison. The realization that in another moment in my life I made a different choice which put me on a quicker path to redemption. That another version of myself chose to be a better person in the moment of my life when I was at my absolute worst, and didn’t have to suffer all of the same heartaches or the inevitable death. I don’t care if I’m a variant. I do care about feeling undeserving. And it’s hard not to feel that way when I know that Sylvie and you…”
Loki paused, searching for the right words. He wasn’t entirely certain how he wanted to express this feeling. He didn’t know if he could. Not without coming across as childish or foolish. Or jealous. But the jealousy would have at least been true. Ever since he learned of variants, he’d envied that one. “It’s hard feeling like a replacement. And I know I’m not. But it’s difficult thinking that other people wish you were someone else. And maybe you don’t. Maybe Sylvie doesn’t. But I can’t help but think that.”
Loki rubbed his palms on his jeans. “I’ve been here long enough to have a lot of fears. Fear of losing people. Fear of being sent back to my death. Fear of never seeing Valhalla. Fear of being the last one in Derleth, alone forever. But my biggest fear? For me the biggest fear is that he will show up.”
And surely everyone would like that Loki more. By all accounts—and Loki had heard a few between Sylvie and the various Mobi-i (?)—he would be everyone’s favorite.
“The same goes for you though. About forging a path here. You don’t have to pick up where the last Mobius left off. With the research, that is. If you want to train to be a professional tennis player instead, that is entirely your prerogative.” Loki grinned. “And it would give me someone to play against other than a brick wall.”
“Ha!” Mobius said. “Tennis. Yeah, I think the wall would be a better partner.”
There was a pause. Mobius tried to soak in everything Cowboy Loki— he would always be Cowboy Loki— said. Listen. Nod. Be patient with him. So far it seemed to be working.
And yet.
Mobius stopped and poked Loki with his finger. “You really are sensitive, you know what? You’re your own person. He’s his own person. No one thinks of you as a replacement, you can’t be replaced. Are you worried when the alligator version of you showed up, Sylvie would prefer him? No. Of course not. This would be just as ridiculous. And as for a quicker path to redemption? He only changed his tune when he saw how your life played out. You think he came in all nice and cooperative? No. He was a royal pain in my ass.”
The intent wasn’t to tear the other Loki down in order to build this one up. Nothing Mobius said was with malice. It was just the truth. Something he seemed to be getting a lot from with this Loki, so it seemed only fair to return it in kind.
“He still is a pain in my ass. He’s just also my friend now. Kind of like you. You’re also a pain in the ass, just in a different way.”
Maybe Mobius should have spoken to Loki’s fears. But what could he have said? I’m sorry. It’s a crappy situation. It didn’t feel genuine. It didn’t feel like enough. Mobius had no such fear or returning home, by the sound of it it seemed almost inevitable judging by the number of times he’d been here before.
No, the best way to be there for Loki? Just literally being there. And maybe remind Loki he was still a pain in the ass if a distraction seemed necessary.
All Lokis were pain in the asses.
It was their gift.
“To be fair, Sylvie does prefer the alligator.” And while that comment might have had a sarcastic edge of sentiment to it, it was a truth that Loki believed in. He’d made too many mistakes along the path of trying to understand Sylvie. There was no repairing that now. Nor did he believe she wanted to repair it. He wasn’t the Loki she wanted to befriend anyway. Unlike Mobius, with his politely inspiring and very carefully chosen words, she did want the other one. The other variant. That was the only way she could make her amends. At least, that’s how it had always seemed to Loki. And he couldn’t begrudge her that.
Although he did wish she would cease being so confrontational with him. Just once he’d like to be able to say that the sky is blue without being condemned as a selfish, inconsiderate liar.
Still, he appreciated Mobius’s words. He respected them. And they did make him feel a bit better. Not much, because this was the kind of response he anticipated. The ‘chin up, lad!’ pep talk. It felt very in line with what he’d experienced with the first Mobius. Except when he gave Loki a pep talk it was while lying in the grass imagining stars in the fake Void sky and not in a musty old gymnasium smelling of dried sweat.
“A pain in the ass and kind of a friend. Your flattery literally knows no bounds.” Loki rubbed his hand over the place where Mobius poked him. He could still feel the pressure of his finger tip. He imagined it left a divot in the skin, even though it did not.
He turned his gaze to Mobius, but didn’t look in his eyes. He was staring at the crooked indentation of his nose and the creased, slightly puckered corners of his lips. There was a lost wonderment in his expression. Curious, wanting, perhaps a little bit mischievous. His thought was almost legible across his face. He was weighing a dangerous decision. One that could have been just as detrimental as picking a fight with Sylvie. Only this one might have been more difficult to live with the consequences.
“A pain in the ass,” Loki repeated, his voice suddenly lower in pitch. Slightly more salacious in tone. “Just in a different way.”
Something dark flashed across his eyes.
Music started playing. From where it was impossible to tell. But by the time it hit the third note of the opening—bah bah bum—Loki leapt to his feet and put at least three feet of distance between them. The song cut off immediately. Like it was being strangled through invisible speakers.
“I think I hear Mischief calling me. Should we take the shortcut?” Loki waved his hand and a green glowing portal appeared at the center of the gym floor. “Or would you prefer the long way around?”
“I mean, sure. He’s very easy to talk to. I like messaging him on the network. He’s a good listener.” Also on the network meant being a safer distance from those sharp teeth and unblinking eyes which always looked a little too hungry for Mobius’s liking.
It was a fine line with this Loki. Obviously traumatized but also lacking… he had friends. He seemed very popular on the network. Self confidence? Self worth? Grounding? Or maybe those were just fancy ways of saying he was traumatized.
(Mobius tried hard to ignore Ravonna’s voice reminding Mobius of his fondness for broken things.)
That was made easier when the first synth beats of a very recognizable song started to play. “Is that Berlin?”
Mobius may have been overly sheltered and brainwashed by the TVA, but some famous 80s power ballads were truly universal. He watched Loki pop up to his feet in a fast jump and stared for a moment, fighting alternating thoughts of bewilderment and amusement. The song stopped and Mobius still wasn’t entirely sure what was happening.
“Sure. Whichever way works.”
He was a little slower to get on his feet, if only so he could try and put together the source of the music. Huh. Weird. This place had a lot of that.
“Is that what? I didn’t hear anything.” An obvious lie. Loki didn’t even try to cover up his expression; the one that completely gave him away. If Mobius hadn’t figured it out based on some of the conversations on the network, then Loki wasn’t going to explain it. Better to just pretend like it wasn’t even there.
Thankfully, with Berlin all he had to do was not be intimate or romantic in his thoughts or intentions. Kenny Loggins, on the other hand, was more difficult to ignore. Loki also thought he might be going slightly deaf in one ear from how loudly it played.
“It’s best if you don’t dawdle through the portal. It might tickle too. Nothing to worry about. Perfectly harmless.” Loki waited until Mobius was closer, then he stepped through first.
The dormitories in Butler Hall were warded with magic, making them impossible to enter without a key. Loki probably could have portalen them directly to his floor, but Butler had gone through so many physical changes and alterations since he arrived that it didn’t seem safe for him to trust the building’s interior. So when he stepped through the portal he arrived just outside the entrance to the building instead of directly in front of his room.
He tugged on the door handle and held it open while he waited for Mobius to cross through the portal.
“Are you coming or not?” he called out towards the portal. “Kittens and sunflower seeds aren’t going to wait all day, you know.”
Mobius stepped through the portal with a look of confusion and wonder on his face. He knew different Lokis had different power sets, but the power sets of Sacred Timeline Loki were well documented.
“Wait, when did you develop portal powers?”
Mobius looked back at the shortcut they had taken. If Loki had chosen it as a distraction from Berlin, it worked perfectly. Mobius was still scratching his head about that one.
How many problems would Loki being able to make his own portals have solved?
His mouth was still slightly agape as he followed Loki into the dormitory. It was strangely nice and not entirely unfamiliar from his previous sleeping arrangements at the TVA. They didn’t exactly give their agents flashy penthouses or cute little houses with white picket fences.
The fact that the sleeping arrangements weren’t weird at all to Mobius in Derleth should have stood out to him. Instead it made so much sense that he hadn’t even really questioned it or thought to complain.
“Who did you get as a roommate?” he asked. It was the only real thought that had occurred to him.
“Julia taught me not long after I first arrived here. I’ve since put my own spin on it. Gave it a bit of Loki flair. Hers aren’t quite as blurry, but I like the mystery of not knowing if you’re going to step through the portal and end up on the moon.” Loki winked, making it difficult to determine whether or not he was joking when it came to that last statement.
Loki led the way to his dormitory, the key to his room magically appearing in his hand as he walked down the corridor. “I was with Sam Wilson originally. Now I’m with Eliot Waugh.”
Loki rolled his eyes, but it could have been in reference to either roommate. Or maybe even both.
“There were quads for a while. So, some people got their own rooms. Sadly, I have never been on Derleth’s list of lucky few. Forever cursed with a roommate who is never of my choosing.” He’d make a comment about how it could be worse, but honestly—could it?
Loki unlocked the door and stepped inside first just to make sure Mischief wouldn’t run out. The kitten was curled up on his bed, however, and merely greeted them with a yawn.
Loki’s half of the room wasn’t as exuberant as one might have expected. It was clean. Neat and tidy. There was a framed portrait of Thor—his Thor as he was last seen on the Statesman—hanging on the wall. A gift from Michael that Loki kept. He also had a few drawings taped to the wall. Most were of himself. One was signed by Steve Rogers. A different—but maybe not so different—Steve Rogers. Near the foot of his bed was a stack of books he’d bought at a Barnes&Noble in Florida. Then there was the Dancing Cat Slot Machine from Planet Vegas and a small green cat tree made by Varric. A tad more crowded than Eliot’s side of the room, but it wasn’t junky.
He definitely needed some more space though.
“Mischief! You can’t just sleep the entire day away!” Mischief stretched his front paws and gave a tiny kitten meow. Then Loki gently picked him up. “I want you to meet Mobius 3.0.”
Loki held him out towards Mobius. “Careful. He has daggers.”